


No words needed

by assasinduckie



Series: No words needed [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Pining, Post-Canon, wallowing in the pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24755008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assasinduckie/pseuds/assasinduckie
Summary: Mustang goes to Edward and Winry's little girl 3 yo birthday for the first time, with Hawkeye and the rest of the team. There, he realises the cost of keeping a distance with the people in his life. He decides to make the most of it.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Series: No words needed [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790185
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Pt 1 (Mustang POV)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This fic is part of a series where I fill in the blanks (those huge huge terrible blanks) that the canon left us! This particular fic is made out of 2 parts, the first one being from Mustangs point of view, and the second one from Hawkeye's. It takes place approximately 10 years after the Anime/Manga, 8 years after the epilogue. This is all my personal headcanon, basically how I imagine things are between them by this time in the story.  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> 

They were about to leave the party, standing up and eyeing around looking for their coats, but in the end they had stayed. It was quite late, but he had figured, since he had finally had a free night, he would make the most of it. With that in mind, he hadn’t hold back from the drinking either.

  
He didn’t thought there would be booze at a children´s birthday party, but after the cake was cut, and the presents were opened and all the other kids were picked up by their parents, Pinako had taken out a couple bottles and dared the remaining adults to try and match up with her drinking. Hawkeye, or Riza, as everyone in the party seemed to call her, had started to decline the offer politely but he had ignored her, and sat next to the tiny old woman with a stupid smile on his face. He was happy. Finally, a chance to get drunk.

  
Everybody was there to celebrate Edward and Winry’s little girl third birthday. Well, not really everybody, though Al had insisted on sending invitations to almost every person they knew from back then, including Olivier Armstrong who had instead sent a tiny but very sharp sword as a birthday present. But most of them were there, all the ones that had participated all those years ago in their tiny revolution. The brothers had stayed in touch with most of them, and from time to time, they would reunite for some kind of event and tell stories of the old days as if they had been all glorious instead of… well, some of the worst moments of their lives.

By now they had shared all the stories. All of them finally knew every single part everyone had played, every sacrifice. It was a really long story with lots of people from very different places, and when it had ended, he was surprised to find out he didn’t even know half of it. But now he was quite proud of being one of the few people in the country, or more likely the world, that knew it in its entirety. He didn’t mind that they only talked about the good stuff now. They deserved it, he thought. 

  
He was thinking about all of this while drinking when he suddenly got distracted by the sound of Gracia´s voice, exclaiming “Elicia, what are you doing awake?”, to her daughter, who had fallen asleep at the living room’s couch earlier.

“You are being too loud” she said while still rubbing her eyes.

She was about the age that Edward Elric had been when he first met him. But luckily, unlike Ed, she was still a child. She was so smart, just like his father, but she still played with dolls and didn’t had a worry in the world.

Roy didn’t see her often but he always sent her gifts for her birthday, and in return, he received a thank you card written by her, at first with the help of her mother, then all on her own, with crocked letters somewhat out of order, then with beautiful calligraphy. He kept them all in a drawer at home, next to a photo of him and Hughes. Winry offered hers and Edwards bed for Elicia to lay down on, but she replied

“No, it’s ok, ill share bed with the little one” and then proceeded to go upstairs, to the birthday girl’s room.

Clearly, Winry and Gracia had stayed in touch, and the children knew each other well, he had also noticed it earlier.

Roy wasn’t a part of this, and it hurt a little, that he couldn’t act with such familiarity around them. But he had kept the distance for good reasons, and nobody had ever demanded an explanation.

So, it had surprised him when Riza said she was going to the party too.

It had been so weird to take the train together, in civilian’s clothes, while chatting with Havoc and Rebecca, and Breda. Apparently, Riza had some kind of relationship with Winry Rockbell, which he wasn’t in the slightest aware of. Of course, he had heard from her about the wedding, and then the births of the children, and even about the brothers findings while traveling the world but he hadn’t really stopped to think about how she had learned about all of this, it felt natural that she, and everyone, just knew about the Elric family whereabouts. And since he had never gone to the children’s birthday parties before, though he was always invited and always sent a present with a “I’m very busy but thank you for the invitation” card, he had never seen Riza around the kids before.

But then they arrived at the house and the kids ran towards her screaming “Aunt Riza!” and he had stand there in shock. And later, when he saw her playing with them, tossing them in the air, or running around playing hide and seek, it had made him feel… well, lots of things, but also a little bit left out.

So tonight, he was going to stay. And he was going to drink.

  
Pinako soon left everyone behind in their little drinking race, without appearing any more drunk that if she had drunk a single bear. Yoki was drooling all over the table while he snored, and Jerso was laughing loudly while telling some story about running into a giant toad and having a stare off contest with it. Izumi Curtis was arm wrestling with Heinkel, after beating Armstrong who was weeping next to a bottle of rum.

He felt so happy to be there that he promised himself that he would come for every birthday party, including the surprise parties Al always threw for Edward, even though it was hardly a surprise anymore. But, of course, he knew that when his head was clear again, he would go back to his cautious self and decline the invitations most of the time.

  
When they finally left, Hawkeye had to half carry him, his arm around her shoulder, her hand on his back, gripping his coat.

They had stayed until the sunrise was about to begin, just in time for the first train back. They had made him drink a coffee, but he was still quite drunk, having to lean part of his weight on her. She didn’t say anything as they slowly fell behind the group, heading their way back to the station, walking slowly. Then he tripped on something and she had to help him back up.

And this was his chance.

He had then stood in front of her, quite close, without saying a word, for just a couple of seconds, and finally let out

“you still have some confetti on your hair”, softly, everything quiet around them, everybody still asleep on a Sunday early morning.

The sun hadn’t come up yet and the air was cold. It was dark.

He extended his hand towards her face and she stiffened, tense in anticipation. Holding her breath. Looking at him in the eyes with that intensity he knew so well. He grabbed the little piece of pink paper from where it was hidden, in the hair close to her face.

“It must be from the piñata” she said in a quiet whisper herself”

“yes, it must be” he whispered back, his hand lingering on the contours of her face.

He waited again, holding his breath for a couple more seconds. Building up the courage. Then, slowly, as if scared she would stop him, he placed his hand on her cheek, cupping her face.

She didn’t stop him. She never did. She just stayed there, closing her eyes, pressing her face against his hand.

And he looked at her, desperately trying to be as much in that moment as his drunkenness and everyday worry’s and troubles allowed him. He erased those from his mind and just stood there. Looking at her.

They waited as long as they could, close to each other, in complete stillness. Just being, together.

Then Havoc shouted from far ahead, something among the lines of “we’re gonna miss the train” and they quickly separated, returning to reality.

  
They made their way to the station in silence, Riza still half carrying him.

It was the routine. They did this, from time to time.

He would find a reason to get drunk, outside of work, in the few occasions they spent time together without a uniform. And then he would get so shitfaced that she would have to carry him home. And then, he would find an excuse, anything really, to touch her. Preferably her face, though once he had had touched her in the back of her neck, to place back the necklace he had “accidentally” snapped from her. That hadn’t been half bad either.

This time, he had spotted the piece of confetti earlier, and waited out the entire night for his chance to be the one to take it out, begging she or no one else would notice, or that it wouldn’t just fall on its own.

He had been waiting for months now really, for a chance to play this little game one more time.

It hadn’t happened that many times anyway. Considering the amount of years, they had spent next to each other, but yet so far away. He only did it when he couldn’t stand it anymore. And he remembered every single one of the occasions. Even if the next day he said he had gotten so drunk he couldn’t remember a thing past the fifth shot, he always could.

He would never get so drunk that he couldn’t remember things, and he hoped she knew that. He was sure she knew. She always knew, she always saw right through him. So of course, he never said anything about those little stolen moments. About how he collected them, using them to fuel him, reproducing them in his head like the favourite scene of a movie you can’t stop thinking about, when you can’t sleep at night because the flat is too quiet, because you feel too alone. He would remember this one, perfectly stored in his head, during this next months of hard work, next to her, without being able to touch her, not like that, not really.

She had a routine too. When he got hurt.

She would tend for him, with the expertise of a nurse. Had she taken some kind of course at some point? Sometimes she wouldn’t let him go to the hospital, saying they couldn’t waste their time with someone so dumb to get injured like that. And then she would take him to his flat and fix his wounds.

Always little things. A superficial shot, or a bruised joint that could get swollen if not covered in ice and properly rested. And he would let her.

That they would also do in silence. There were no words needed. He often thought that if he ever heard her say it, he would fall apart entirely. He wouldn’t be able to do the routine anymore because he would need so much more.

He knew she probably felt the same way, so he didn’t say anything either. And as long as she stayed beside him, he knew he would have the strength to carry out what he was set to do. As long as she stayed beside him, and let him touch her face from time to time, in the cover of an early morning, when it was still dark and cold, and everyone was asleep and he was still so drunk, he knew he was gonna be ok.


	2. Pt2 Hawkeye's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkeye is surprised to hear Mustang will be attending the party too. She enjoys being able to share with him this other part of herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This is part two of this fic! It's the same day, from Hawkeye's point of view.  
> Hope you enjoy!

“Since we finished early today, I think I’m gonna go to that girl’s birthday party after all” he said, while stretching his arms over his head, leaning back in his chair in front of his desk.

She looked at him surprised. He never went to the children´s parties. She quickly composed herself, back to her professional persona, back straight and lips pressed.

“We´re going in the 5 pm train. We agreed to meet at the station 15 minutes earlier.” She said, voice vacant.

“We?” he asked, stopping mid-stretch.

“Havoc, Rebecca, Breda, myself…you, apparently”. Now it was him who had to hide his surprise. He didn’t do it quite as quickly.

Clearly, he thought he was the only one invited or something, which was a rather stupid thought, since they all had kept in touch with the brothers, and they had actually been there for all the previous parties. But maybe he didn’t know that.

She smiled to herself and made a mental note to look at his face when he saw the familiarity she and the others had with the Elric family, specially the children. Would he trip over his feats when he heard them call her auntie? Now that she thought about it, maybe it would make him sad.

He wasn’t being distant because he enjoyed it, he was so bad at being alone. And now she was suddenly worried he would feel left out. She frowned at the papers she was gathering. All these years and she still felt like a stupid teenager in love, worried that her stupid crush would feel hurt over some stupid thing.

All these thoughts passed through her mind like a gust of wind, and she let them pass, as she always did, used to those raptures of emotion she had learn to manage even before she met him. She concluded the whole thing with an internal, “I’m glad you’re coming too”.

She then finished reorganizing her desk and walked out of the room throwing a “See you at the station” over her shoulder. He didn’t answer her, nor she gave him time to.

The chances of them spending time together without a uniform on were scarce. More so, lately. In the past few months, there had been questions made.

She knew that the more he got to the top the more people would try and find reasons to hold him back. It made her sick to think about she being one of them.

On another time, when she was younger, and more unsure, she would have voiced her concerns, asked him if he could transfer her so that there wouldn’t be any more questions. But that was a long time ago, she now knew better than to think like that. He wouldn’t let her, anyway. He would remind her: someone had to be there to shoot him if he got too stupid. Which was his way of saying, I can´t do this without you. And he really couldn’t.

So, they could ask questions about them, they could send some low rank private to follow them around, there was nothing to be found really. That was the whole point of it, anyway.

Still, they hadn’t spent any time together outside of the office for months now, just in case. As a result, every accidental closeness had gotten more intense, and that was saying something. She was used to it. It would build up, from time to time. Now she had to be careful when she passed him a file, so that their hands wouldn’t brush against each other. In her head, she could see sparks originating from the impact of their fingers, rapidly setting the hole office on fire. She recognised the fear in his eyes too. In reality, no one would notice. They were also quite used to it.

Still, they avoided each other. Doing a stupid dance so that their bodies wouldn’t brush against each other whenever they walked through the aisles. She had even dreamed of him getting hurt, something like a small car accident, so that they would finally take his license away and assign him a chouffer, granted that when she thought about it she had been mad about a comment he had made, to try and make her jealous.

He always did, manage to make her angry about all those women he called or sent flowers to, even if she knew they were most likely spies, half-sisters almost. Not that she ever let that show. With time it had gotten worse. It was as if not being able to act on her emotions had made them reverse even more to childlike reactions. It was extremely annoying.

Luckily, she wasn’t an actual child, but a very strong, emotionally mature woman, and she knew how to keep a handle on all her raptures. She had once told Rebecca about it, some years ago. Told her she would get this fits, of strong emotion, about anything, and that she was afraid they would make her reckless. Rebecca had stood in shock.

“fits? Strong emotion? Reckless? Who are you talking about?” So maybe it was all in her head. That didn’t make it less real tho.

  
But this time it was killing her, the lack of contact. It had been 8 months since he last got hurt, a superficial shot, by an anti-ishvalan fuck.

It was raining so he had been hopeless. And she had been too slow. The man only lived about 3 seconds longer after firing that shot but still…. And then he had been sent to a military hospital.

So, no good had come out of that, only very delayed paperwork.

Three months before that, there had been that drunken night, at the anniversary of the beginning of the Ishval war. It was now a national holiday to commemorate the fallen ishvalan to that foolish war, which was now starting to be consider as a genocide by historians.

Havoc had called and said they were all drinking down at the pub. It was 5 in the afternoon.

At about 11 pm the bar owner kicked them out, and she had carried him home. He had tripped at the entrance of the apartment, falling to his hands and knees, and then extended his hand asking for help to get back up. But then he hadn´t let go of it.

He had hold on to it for dear life as he leaned against the wall, trembling. His eyes were vacant. He was trapped somewhere, in some memory. She squeezed his hand, hard. Slowly, he began to come back from it.

She had then taken him to his bed and made him lay on one side so that he wouldn’t drown on his own vomit, all while still gripping tightly at his hand.

The apartment was small, but still, it seemed so empty. He had been offered better accommodations, but she had heard him saying he liked the area were he’s apartment was.

When she came back with a glass of water to leave by the nightstand, he seemed to have fallen asleep. So, she had turned around to leave, but then suddenly felt the soft brush of a hand in her back.

She went still, frozen. He whispered “I´m sorry. I used it wrong.”

His voiced was heavy with emotion and she could feel his body trembling behind her. He was crying. It was not like him to talk about regrets. She didn’t dare to turn around. But then his hand dropped and some time later she heard him snore. He was finally asleep.

She had walked the 4 blocks back to her apartment feeling shivers through her spine. A burning sensation on the skin in her back. She had also cried herself to sleep.

  
So not only had it been 11 months since the last time, but it hadn’t been the best moment either.

Maybe that night, getting back from the party…. But there wasn’t going to be any alcohol at a 3-year-old party, and probably no stupid racist to shoot him so she better got that idea out of her head or she would go to bed frustrated and disappointed.

To remedy that she focused on the actual party, which she was actually quite excited about. She didn’t get to spend that much time with those kids as she would have liked, and lately, whenever she talked to Winry on the phone, the little one would demand to speak with her as well. He was 5 and they had the most absurd and hilarious conversations.

Winry told her that she thought he had a crush on her, and it was soon confirmed when he asked her to marry him, to which his mother intervened and said, “oh, no, she´s taken. She’s married already. To her work.”

It was a good joke, and a true one too. Mustang was, indeed, a full-time job. The kid hadn´t really understood but still shrugged and said, “then I’ll ask Elicia. “To which Riza and Winry had a good laugh.

And so, with all this in mind she took a shower and got dress, a blue summer dress with a jacket, in case it got cold, some heels, that pearl necklace he had once ripped off her neck by “accident”.

She let her hair loose. Now it was her who had it long while Winry had just cut it short, arguing it kept getting stuck at things while she worked.

“What’s the point of keeping it long if I’m always gonna have it tied up anyway?” she had said, while waiting her turn at the Hair Salon Hawkeye had recommended.

But she thought that was what she liked about it. At work she kept it out of her way, up with a clip, in a practical manner. But then when she was out, she could wear it loose and feel as if she was another version of herself. The version that was an auntie, who welcomed with open arms the two children that were now running towards her. She indulged herself in making the introductions, so that she could see Mustang’s face of complete astonishment.

“This is General Mustang kids, you met him before but you were too young to remember. He’s my boss you know, the one that makes me work long hours and keeps me from coming to visit you every day. “

“You’re the guy with the funny moustache!! Where did it go???“ The older one shouted, while the birthday girl hid behind Riza’s legs, suddenly embarrassed in front of this big men she didn’t recognize.

It took him a bit to snap out of his shock (and confusion, what moustache?? He couldn’t even grow that much facial hair) but then he sat on his heels so that he could look at the children in the eye and said in a calm, sweet voice, low enough no one else would listen

“You can call me Roy. I’m so sorry that I keep Mrs Hawkeye away from you so much, you’ll see, I’m just so lost without her, I can’t ever spare her. Will you forgive me?” He was talking in a manner she had rarely heard him use, so soft and sincere, it reminded him of when they were kids themselves.

The little one came out of her hiding spot and screamed, “ismabirzday!” while he took Mustangs hand and carried him back to the house running.

“Who’d had known he was so good with kids?” Havoc asked.

“Certainly, a good quality to have, he would make good husband material” said Rebecca, continuing on their running joke.

“He’s just trying to prove he can seduce anybody, even children. He would be nice to a cactus if it made him look good” she said, laughing, while thinking that she liked this other version of himself.

\-----------------

  
After a whole afternoon running around with 8 or 9 children Riza was exhausted and ready to leave.

All in all, they had stayed past dinner time, and they were already short on time to catch the last train heading back to the city. Luckily everyone seemed to think the same and were looking around for their coats.

But then Pinako had pulled out the bottles and even as Riza refused the invitation everyone sat back at the table smiling.

So, they weren´t leaving on the last train. So, they were drinking.

Mustang was smiling like an idiot. She felt as if he was smiling for her. And he kept throwing looks at her, but not at her eyes, it was more to the left. She realized what it was when she went to the bathroom. She had a bit of confetti stuck in her hair.

 _Oh_. She smiled to her reflection. He was so obvious. It was a surprise no one else noticed, really.

She had seen him looking at her, all afternoon. A bit sad, that longing look he always got when he was around this people. His friends.

Was that the reason why she had never mentioned her relationship with the children, with the Elric family?

She had always thought it was because there wasn’t any good professional reason for her to bring it up but maybe she just wanted to keep this to herself. He couldn’t be a part of it anyways.

She pledge to herself she would talk about it more on the office. That way he would at least know about the funny anecdotes, catch on some of the inside jokes.

But this wasn’t half bad either. She had surprised him. Shown there were still parts of herself he didn’t know of. And he had surprised her, letting her take a glimpse at the longing he felt towards all of this uncovered closeness.

It was always different to be able to smile like this, freely, knowing he was looking at her. Would he think back to that smile and imagine it was him to who it was addressed to? She hoped so. It really was.

\----------------------

  
And then they were drinking, and commemorating, glorifying every stupid thing.

And he was really going all out tonight. He was drinking so much… She realised she had been staring for too long and worried that someone might have noticed. Then she remembered where she was and laugh to herself.

No one here cared, and anyway, they already knew. The rest of it was enjoying pleasant talk with her friends. Rebecca and Havoc were openly holding hands, eyes all over each other. They had seemed somewhat worried about Mustang being there too, at first, but then they had noticed him deliberately ignoring any sign of fraternization and didn’t hold back anymore.

Riza could feel the piece of confetti in her head, like it was burning. She had to stop herself several times as she was about to touch her hair, brushing her fingers through it.

At some point in the night, nearing the end of it, while they were forcing coffee on Mustang and all the couples were embracing, half asleep, the piece of paper began to feel like the clock of a bomb. She hurried them, said it would take them longer to walk back to the station because they were more tired, that they didn’t wanna miss the first train.

At first, they were reticent, but then when they all noticed how exhausted the homeowners were, (except for Pinako, who was still going strong) everyone began to make their goodbyes.

They were a large group. But luckily no one had offered to help her carry him. She guessed they all knew better.

They soon fell behind, with Roy walking so slowly and heavily she was worried he would forget all about it and just fall asleep. But he didn’t, instead he tripped, face to the floor. And then it was on.

He was standing in front of her, blocking the way to the station. She felt all the anxiety in her stomach, like the first time she had talked to him, when they were still kids. She had thought he was so pretty and almost said it out loud. Instead she had blushed and smile. He had smiled back.

He was smiling now. But he wasn’t moving. “Stupid boy” she thought. What was he waiting for?

“you still have some confetti on your hair” he finally said, so low she could only hear him on account of their closeness. She could even feel the warmth of his alcoholic breath.

She tried not to but when he moved his hand, she went stiff. The expectation was killing her. He grabbed the paper from her head, o so she assumed because she was staring at his eyes, not really noticing anything around her at all.

“it must be from the piñata” she answered, on pilot mode.

“yes, it must be” he answered back. She held her breath and he did too and then he moved the hand that had stayed there to, very slowly, as if searching for approval, place it on her cheek, cupping her face.

She let out the air from her lungs while closing her eyes, pressing her face against that cold, cold hand. It was good it was cold. It helped it feel more real. Because it was hard to feel it real, there in the dark, with no one around. It felt so lost in time, like an old memory that belonged to someone else.

She felt his eyes staring at her, she felt him sober up from the effort to be there, really be there, next to her. She could feel all the tension slipping away. If only his hand could do this to her, what could his lips do? But she pushed that thought away, she didn’t want to think about ifs and when’s. This was enough, for now.

So, she took it in. Like fuel, to keep her moving forward, always forward, to better things.

Then she heard the shouting and came back to harsh reality.

But the morning was brighter, maybe because the sun was finally coming up, or maybe because she could still feel his hand on her cheek, and on her neck, and on her own hand, and her waist from that time she was the one that tripped, drunk, and in her hair, and on her ears, placing the fallen earring, and on her cheek again, and her forehead checking her temperature and all those stolen contacts, and even the shadow of that hug he gave her on a puddle of blood that time she had almost died, she could feel it sometimes at night when her bed was cold, cold as she had gotten from all the lost blood. With his arm around her shoulder leaning his weight on her she could remember just fine what it had felt to be his eyes.

She smiled, as she carried that big idiot back to the station. They better complete that dream of theirs and they´d better do it fast because it had to be all worth it. The hand on her cheek had to be just the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hope you liked it! I had quite a bit of trouble writing this chapter. When I started writing I was surprise of the way I ended up characterizing her. I think i just think of her as a really intense person, with really intense emotions, but also a really good grip on them. She's also extremely intuitive. So that's why she might feel irrational jealousy but would never act on it.  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, you could leave kudos or maybe a comment! It's all sincerely appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> HI! Hope you enjoyed this little bit of wallowing over their forbidden love. I tried to keep it as perked up as possible, though it is quite hard to manage. I've just finished watching the anime and I’m currently reading the manga, and the lack of canon content was killing me, so i just had to make a little of my own. This is the first fic I’ve written in the past ten years! It came first in a streak of 8 fics I wrote during a weekend; which we'll be all part of the series I’m planning. If you liked it and want to leave kudos or a comment, I would really appreciate it.


End file.
